


one step at a time

by the_fluffy_unicorn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: !!!, (tm), Angst, As you do, Coda, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gabriel (Supernatural) Lives, Gabriel masking pain with, Gen, Humor, I'm way too sleep-deprived im sorry, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sabriel - Freeform, Tender Angst, aanyway ill shut up now, but it's pretty obvious so, but just a bit, but then there's a serious conversation and it's sorta, hopeful?, idk - Freeform, post-episode: s13e13, s13e13 coda, these tags are a mess, this fic is what I call, this is the Gabriel fandom resurrection party and we have All The Fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 03:11:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13627368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_fluffy_unicorn/pseuds/the_fluffy_unicorn
Summary: post-episode coda for s13e13 - Gabriel lives and they break him out of Hell bc of course they do.





	one step at a time

As soon as they spring Gabriel free, they go into a complete lockdown.

Rowena helps, of course – they couldn’t have done it without her in the first place. Break a living, breathing, _grace-bound_ archangel out of Hell without a single demon – including Asmodeus – noticing that anything’s wrong or missing? Yeah, that’d be a bit over their heads. Dean doesn’t like it, of course, but he comes round eventually – he knows it’s the right thing to do, and Rowena is their only shot at it. It goes without a hitch, Rowena leaving a spellbound shapeshifter in Gabriel's cell and leading them all out through ‘witch ways’, as she calls them, in no time at all.

They get Gabriel into the bunker and raise every ward they can think of, plus some obscure ones Cas has dug out in the bunker library, plus Rowena’s spells and a couple pagan rituals just to top it all off.

The first words to come out of Gabriel's mouth once Cas is done healing him are ‘hey gorgeous, long time no see, thanks for the rescue’ – aimed at Rowena, of all people – _which, in hindsight, shouldn’t have been so surprising,_ Sam thinks, _they both have been around for a while, of course they’ve met._

Rowena replies with a ‘now _you_ owe me one, sweetie’, a smile and a warning to snap the bond only when they are ready to face the music – and then she’s gone. Dean looks alarmed by this unexpected display of power, as if breaking Gabriel from Hell wasn’t enough of a tell, but says nothing, and Sam swallows his guilt, focusing on helping Gabriel instead.

They set him up in one of many bunker spare rooms, decorated with an additional set of wards. The wards make Gabriel huff and roll his eyes, but he says nothing, diving head first into the pillows. It looks like he’s out cold even before his body hits the bed.

He sleeps for about thirty hours, Cas reassures them that it’s just as it is supposed to be – his vessel needs time to heal properly, and it’s the only way to do so without the full access to his grace, so they leave him be.

When he wakes up, they make him a tooth-rotting breakfast, including an entire pie from Dean, which equals to a full acceptance speech and a surprise party with a _welcome to the team_ banner in Dean speak. Sam is surprised, to say the least – until he notices Cas’ grateful smile aimed at Dean and then it clicks. _Of course._

They give Gabriel the tour of the bunker and tell him, over and over, that he is more than welcome to stay there as long as he wants, call it home, temporary or permanent, if it’s something he might like to do. They have a movie night and a homemade pizza party, then a Doctor Sexy marathon (Dean’s idea, of course), then a poker night, followed, after a long and heated debate, by all Star Wars movies _in_ _chronological order_.

They aren’t fully aware of it, but they are walking on eggshells. They don’t need to ask questions, not really. Each of them knows what it’s _like_. So, they tread lightly, avoiding talking business altogether. Gabriel seems to be content to do just that for a whole four and a half days, until he’s apparently had enough, and, all of a sudden, they find themselves in the middle of a _serious conversation_ instead of playing a board game that Cas has talked them all into.

“Real talk, though,” Gabriel says instead of rolling the dice, “when are we gonna see about kicking some ass? Cause, y’know, I’ve been a little held up for a couple years, and could _really_ do with some ass-kicking right about now.”

The silence that follows is too long to not be awkward by anyone’s standards.

“Gabriel,” Cas says, hesitant, “I… believe it’s too early to talk about it. You need more time to heal.”

“My vessel’s all healed up and good as new, you know that better than anyone, Cassie. Now. Is anyone gonna tell me what the real hold-up is? We still have a bunch of apocalypse-crazy wackos to deal with, do we not?”

“Yeah,” Sam says, “but… are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Dean scoffs. “Are you? Really?”

Gabriel rolls his eyes with an exasperated sigh. “Yep. Good as new.”

The three of them avoid looking at Gabriel, glancing at each other instead. Dean clenches his jaw and Cas frowns. The silence sits heavy, but Team Free Will has never been famous for talking about feelings.

“Okay, fine.” Gabriel sits up in his chair, looking at each of them in turn. “Ask me. Y’know, the thing that’s been bothering you. We all know what it is, so. Ask me. Swear to dear ol’ dad imma tell the truth. The angelic lie detector here can call me out if I don’t.”

Both Cas and Dean seem at a loss for words. Sam takes a breath and clears his throat. “How… how are you holding up, Gabriel?”

“That the best you can come up with, Sammy? And here I was hoping you’d be brave enough to be blunt about it. Come on, guys! Ask me how it was.”

“How was it, Gabriel?” Cas’ voice is quiet and measured. “How was… Hell?”

Gabriel beams up at him. “Ah, I’m glad you ask, Cassie. It was boring as – well – as all Hell. Literally.”

“Boring?” Dean pipes in. “Dude, I’d call Hell anything but boring. Wasn’t you… I mean… Didn’t he…”

“Torture me? Sure did. As I said, boring.”

“Don’t joke about this, Gabriel,” Cas says, frowning. “These things can be difficult to cope with. I’m offering to listen and to help as best I can.”

“We all do,” Sam says. “Each of us can relate, so…”

“Whatever you need,” Dean adds. “Just say the word.”

“Aww, you guys! Didn’t know you cared. I’m touched. But I ain’t lying, either. I really _am_ fine. No long-lasting trauma, no need to pay therapy bills for the rest of the millennium, we can all just pack our bags and go ice us some archangels.”

Gabriel looks at them, imploring, but Sam isn’t convinced, neither is Dean nor Cas. Gabriel sighs.

“Look. Just… forget about Ass-mode, would ya? I mean, sure, he did his best to inflict pain, and he even succeeded at times, but once you try giving birth to an eight-legged horse everything else is just a walk in the park. Why d’you think he sewed my mouth shut? I kept telling him everything I thought about his dumbass plans no matter what he did to me, because the whole _you torture, me scream_ schtick? Doesn’t work on me. And the moment I snap the bond he’s as good as dead. Rowena is always meticulous about these things. Trust me, I know.”

Sam still isn’t convinced, but Gabriel seems relaxed and happy, all open smiles and wide hand gestures, and Cas is no longer frowning but smiling, and Dean is trying to suppress a chuckle – about the Sleipnir thing, no doubt – so yeah, okay, Sam thinks, we’re probably good to go.

“Okay,” Dean says, as if mirroring Sam's thoughts, “okay, fine. We set out first thing tomorrow. Are you sure Asmodeus won’t be a problem?”

“Absolutely. I mean, theoretically his ass could remain in one piece, but I doubt it’ll survive long enough to tell the tale. I’m about to release a giant cosmic slingshot, and he’s strapped to the receiving end.”

“But we still need to get to him first, right? To get your blade?” Sam says. “So, what’s the plan here?”

“You mean,” Gabriel says, grinning, as he reaches into his jacket, “this blade?”

“But how did you… you were out cold when we got you!”

“The one Ass-mode’s got is fake, Dean-o. An angel’s blade is an extension of their grace, literally a part of them. It cannot be removed and stored in a box on a dusty shelf of some little old curiosity shop. Sure, it’s pretty convincing for a distraction, but no more than that. I thought Cassie told you all about it by now. Archangel blades are no exception.”

“Dude. We made _bullets_ out of angel blades. How is that even possible?”

“It’s boring. And complicated. And boring. Physical manifestation blah-blah-blah. And just so you know those bullets don’t keep long. My blade’s been hidden away for a dozen centuries at least. So, by this point it’s nothing more than a pretty knife.”

“Okay. Okay, that’s settled then.”

Sam looks at Dean. Dean nods.

“I believe it was your turn to roll the dice, Gabriel,” Cas says, deadpan. “What is taking you so long?”

Of course, they all burst out laughing.

…

They finish their game in surprisingly high spirits, all things considered. Dean insists they turn in early, and nobody argues: who knows when they’re gonna be able to have a good night’s sleep next. The bunker is dark and quiet. Sam's in his bed, staring at the ceiling. At some point he feels like he just might be able to drift off, but the moment passes, and he is wide awake again. He tries his usual tricks: head tilts, meditation, breathing, but sleep doesn’t come.

He sighs and rolls out of bed, heading for the kitchen to make some tea. It’d hardly help him sleep, but at least it’s something to do with his time.

As he’s shuffling back along the dimly lit corridor, his ears pick up a soft rustling sound. He can’t say for sure, but it looks like it’s coming from the library, so he turns and heads there.

“Hey, Sam,” Gabriel says as soon as Sam steps into the room.

He is sitting in a chair with his knees pulled in, idly flipping through the pages of some book. Sam sits in a chair opposite his, setting his mug on the table.

“Hey, Gabriel. Couldn’t sleep?”

“Nah. I think I’ve done enough sleeping in the last couple of days.”

There’s something different about Gabriel. He looks tired. Worn out and deflated, somehow, as if his loud and brash personality slipped off him. Like a mask.

“Hey,” Sam says, hesitant. “I know it sounded stupid first time round, but. Um. Are you okay?”

Gabriel shrugs, not taking his eyes off the page. “I don’t know. Are you?”

“I don’t know,” Sam echoes. It is easier, now with just the two of them. Easier to be honest.

“Yeah,” Gabriel says.

Sam picks up his mug. Takes a sip. Gabriel flips another page.

“It’s dead now. All gone. That part of me Asmodeus got his hands on. But it wasn’t me. The real me, I mean. Just another mask. And it’s gone now. So yeah. No. I don’t know. Okay, I guess. Just. Different.”

“Yeah,” Sam says.

Gabriel lets out a laugh. It sounds hollow. “I’ve no idea why I’m telling you all this, to be honest. Not the best conversation topic before we ride into battle, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, no,” Sam says. “I get it. I do.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Sam says. Takes a breath. “Lucifer.”

Gabriel doesn’t reply. Seconds stretch into minutes as they sit there in silence. Sam's tea grows lukewarm, then cold. Surprisingly, the silence between them doesn’t feel heavy. Just tired. And sad.

“I don’t – I don’t know if I can do it. I guess I should hate him by now and want him dead, but-”

“He’s still your brother.”

“Yeah.”

“We can… think of something? Trap him, maybe? Rowena-”

“You of all people should know, Sammy. It’s kinda pointless, trapping my brother. Just like it’s pointless trying to kill me.”

Sam chuckles. “Yeah.”

Gabriel smiles, too, but it’s brief and fleeting. Barely there.

“One step at a time?” Sam offers.

Gabriel breathes, deep. In and out.

“Yeah. One step at a time.”


End file.
